The Beasts of Juarez R.B. Schow (reading the story of the .TXT) 📖

given him, found the photo of Alabama that had become his favorite, and showed it to her. Seeing her daughter so clearly, she broke into tears.

“Our little girl,” she said with a shaky voice. Tears drained onto her cheeks and her hands trembled.

“She’s alive,” Atlas said. “We don’t have her yet, but this is real, and it’s recent.”

“How did you get this?” she asked.

“This one’s a little tough to look at, but you’ll appreciate the nature of it after your stomach settles.” He scrolled to the most recent photo and showed it to her. It was the photo of Keegan’s head split in two.

She turned away fast. “What the hell, Atlas?”

“This is the man who took her. For all that he has done to destroy our family, the life Alabama could have had, the life we could have had…he deserved this.”

“What if they catch you?” she asked.

“I’m in solitary confinement at this very moment, Jade. Besides, I’m already in there for three life sentences. What are they going to do, give me a fourth, fifth, or sixth life sentence?”

“When you said you were resourceful, I didn’t think that…how is this even possible? How are you out right now?”

“I told you before I’m going to find her. I meant it, Jade. Come hell or high water, dead or alive, I’m going to find her.”

She looked him over and he knew he was beaten pretty badly. “I have to say, I actually like this new look of yours.”

Grinning, rubbing the stubble on his head, he said, “That’s because you’ve been with a pretty boy for too long now.”

It was her turn to smile. Before he knew it, she reached out of the car and pulled his head toward her. Slowly, passionately, she kissed him on the lips. When she pulled back, she said, “There’s too big of a place in my heart for you, Atlas Hargrove. I still love you, even after everything you’ve done, and even after everything I’ve done.”

“Just keep that heart of yours open,” he said, worried that Cira had now seen him kiss two other women in the last twenty-four or so hours.

“Even if we don’t know what the future holds for us?” she asked.

He scrolled to one more picture, a photo of Alabama in the backyard eating at a picnic table. The photo looked like it was a few years old based on Alabama’s age. In the picture, she was sitting by herself, smiling slightly for the camera the way she did when she was shy. The first time he’d seen it, the sight of her like this just about broke his heart. He needed to see it, to hope that one day—if he could get her back—she could smile again. Jade needed to see this, too. She needed to know it was time to start fighting for her again.

Jade started to cry, and then she said, “She’s really alive.”

He nodded, solemn, not judging, just hoping.

“Do you really think you can find her?”

“I know I can.”

“When you find the person who has her, make them pay the way you made the other guy pay.”

“I plan on checking that box, love.”

She looked up at him, something in her gaze changing. “I’ll come to see you, Atlas.”

“Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” he said. “Because one day of waiting, feels more like a week when you’re in the joint.”

“I mean it,” she said.

“Good.”

“Are you headed back now?”

He nodded, a sad smile breaking over his face. “Remember to keep your heart open, Jade. Please, this time, keep it open.”

She tried, unsuccessfully, to forestall the inevitable rush of tears. Speaking in Russian, she looked him deep in his eyes and said, “A heart only really knows one other heart.”

“That’s why my heart will forever belong to you,” he said in the same language.

After she wiped her eyes, said goodbye, and drove off, he climbed into the car with Cira who promptly said, “I’m officially jealous of her.”

“She has that effect on other women,” Atlas said, emotional.

“Are you ready?” the driver asked.

“Yes,” Atlas replied.

“You still love her, don’t you?” Cira asked.

“With every fiber of my being,” he said, way too tired to lie.

Chapter Forty-Eight

LEOPOLD WENTWORTH

The jet made a slow descent into Blacksburg, Virginia, the private landing strip clear except for the black Range Rover waiting nearby. He expected to see the usual driver when he walked down the jet’s stairs with Kiera, but instead, he saw Isabelle waiting outside the sleek SUV. To his surprise, Savannah Swann occupied the driver’s seat.

“Why did you bring her with you?” he asked Isabelle while looking at Savannah. Savannah was looking at him, too.

The older woman smiled a wicked grin. “I just wanted to see you squirm.”

“Well, it’s working.”

“What I can’t figure out is if you’re terrified of her, or if you’ve discovered love at first sight.”

Still looking at the amethyst-eyed girl, he said, “I think it’s a mixture of both.”

Kiera went and got in the back seat, rolled down the window, and looked at Leopold with that same dead-eyed stare.

When he glanced from Kiera to Savannah and back to Kiera again, the bald-headed assassin did something that floored him completely, something he never expected—she winked at him.

He stood there, dumbstruck, but feeling good all of a sudden.

Isabelle turned and looked at Kiera. “What has your cheeks blushing so bright, Leopold?”

“I think Kiera just smiled at me,” he replied.

“Don’t bond with her,” Isabelle said, which Kiera heard clearly. The statement prompted in the girl a shallow frown followed by a look of sadness.

Leopold managed to pull his gaze away from Kiera long enough to tell Isabelle, “I’ll do whatever the hell I want with her, thank you very much.”

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t worried that Kiera would get the job done. He